


The Story of The American Beauty and The American Psycho

by muchofeels



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Blow Jobs, Complete, Drabble, Finished, Flashbacks, M/M, Summer of Like, Warped Tour 2005, american beauty/american psycho induced memories, there is an alternate ending btw it will be posted a second chapter, there is some cliche shit in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-10 02:28:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3273383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muchofeels/pseuds/muchofeels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Mikey Way finally listens to American Beauty/American Psycho, he realises exactly what the inspiration behind some of the songs is. He realises that Pete kept his promise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I am sure that this is obvious, but I feel like I should clarify. The italicized text is the flashbacks and the '~' signifies the beginning/end of it. Also, the regular text is present time.

After all the hype and anticipation, Mikey knew, he  knew  he was going to buy it. It didn’t matter how many times he put the album out of his mind, it never really left. It only hid in the corner of his mind known as  “The Summer of Like.” 

 

When the two bands- Fall Out Boy and My Chemical Romance- went their separate ways, Mikey’s best friends became heartache and a diary where he wrote out a thousand letters he knew he would never send. But getting the thoughts out, seeing his feeling etched out in ink, gave him a sense of relief and satisfaction. 

He would never hand over the writings to Gerard, or anyone in the band, really. But if he did, those entry’s would be the most tragic love songs to ever be heard.

 

But Mikey Way was not that kind of man. He didn’t want his feelings on display in the form of riddles and metaphors. Unluckily for him, Pete Wentz was.  _ “Bang the Doldrums”  _ came out and both bandoms exploded. The unspoken truth was in the air and even then neither men would confirm what happened that summer on Warped Tour. Because nothing happened. Right? Maybe that’s just what the two of them told themselves to keep their throbbing hearts at bay.

The days leading up to January 20th, was a mixture of anxiety and feverish excitement. But on the 19th, at 11:48 p.m, the youngest Way brother got in his car and drove to the nearest album store.

 

He stood in line amongst a sea of teenagers all eagerly waiting for the doors to swoosh open and let them in to get their hands on their copy of  “American Beauty/American Psycho.” 

It seemed like time slowed down. But in the end, the doors opened five after twelve, and Mikey strode to the back of the store where the alternative music was held. His fingers plucked the CD from the shelf and he then made his way to register. With his head held low and hood up, he paid in cash and exited.

Mikey took the long way home. Sure, he wanted to hear the songs, but… ever since that kick to the gut on  _ “Infinity On High”  _ known as  “Bang The Doldrums,”  he’d always been scared to  listen to a Fall Out Boy album.

He arrived home and set the CD in the player, putting himself on the bed. He meant to hit play, he did, but something overcame him. A wave of foreboding that made his eyelids heavy and heart rate slow.

_ I’ll listen to it tomorrow.  _ He told himself as the bed began conforming to his back.

****  
  
Tomorrow came, and so did the next day, and so did the next day. Pretty soon it was the second week of February and the album had still been unheard by Mikey. He wasn’t putting it off. 

Yes he was. 

He was looking at those eleven songs printed on the back of finely painted cardboard and it was like he was back in high school. That feeling of getting assigned homework in your worst subject over winter break-  that  was how Mikey was looking at the collection of songs.

The feeling of his phone buzzing on the coffee table tore him from his moment in space.

It was from Gerard.  _ You heard the new album yet? _

Mikey shook his head although his brother couldn’t see him and then typed out ‘no.’

  

_ You need to. _

 

_ Why? _

 

_ You just have to. _

If Gerard was texting him about it, maybe the thing was worth a listen.

So, at 11:29 p.m that night, Mikey sat down on his bed. He reached over, pressed play, and clutched the pillow he pulled into his lap harshly.

The first song was  “Uma Thurman.”  He nodded his head along to the beat. Then came  “American Beauty/American Psycho.”  That song was followed by  _ “Centuries,” “Novocaine,”  _ and  _ “Immortals.” _

This album, Mikey thought, wasn’t going to be another  _ “Bang the Doldrums”  _ fiasco. For that he was grateful, he didn’t know if he could stand all the twitter mentions and more speculations.

Just as his anxiety was slipping away, he heard a lyric that tugged his heart toward the CD player. 

“....as crooked smiles fade, former heros who quit too late…”

For some reason, Mikey felt that that was some deep, hidden message that maybe only he was suppose to understand. 

It made him listen more closely. That might have been a bad idea. 

_ “And sometimes I just wanna sit around and gaze at my shoes, yeah. And let your dirty sadness fill me up just like a balloon.” _

If Mikey’s pupils hadn’t blown, he would’ve probably been admiring the way Patrick sang the word “balloon.” But those words, that  _ line.  _ It meant something deeper than just one of the stupid metaphors Pete came up with.

He hadn’t moved. And then he heard the  “I’ll be yours. When it rains, it pours.”  He squeaked a little, blinking for the first time since that first needle to his heart.

The song ended. Finally. Mikey was shaking his head, trying everything he could to denying the lyrics spilling from the CD player. But the next song had already began.

_ “There’s a room in a hotel in New York City, that shares our fate and deserves our pity. I don’t want to remember at all, the promises I made if you just hold on.” _

If other words were sung after that, Mikey couldn’t hear them. His memories had taken human form and captured the young bassist in a chokehold.

****  
  


~

**  
** _ He giggled. Actually fucking giggled. Mikey had heard good music before, he played it, but the sound of Pete Wentz giggling was better than any guitar riff. _

_ “What?” Pete asked, his breath coming in short spurts. _

_ Mikey shook his head. “Your giggle is cute.” He was blushing now. _

_ The bassist of Fall Out Boy put a his finger up Mikey’s chin and forced his head up so they were looking each other in the eyes. “Well,  I  think  you’re  cute.” _

_ “Shut up.” _

_ The brunette leaned in, their lips dangerously close, and said two simple words. “Make me.” _

_ The younger man leaned in a little more, letting his chapped lips meet with Pete’s surprisingly soft ones. At first, the kiss was simply innocent. No tongue, no moans, just two pairs of lips against each other. And then Pete actually realised what was happening. _

_ His hands found their way to Mikey’s hair and tugged his head back. He licked into his mouth, causing the other man to moan and latch his fingers through Pete’s belt loops and pull him on top of him. _

_ “A bit frisky, aren’t we, Mikes?” _

_ “Oh, shut up.”  _

_ Pete went to say something but Mikey quickly cut him off with, “And you  can’t say ‘make me’ because I just did.” _

_ He shrugged. “Fair enough.” _

_ “Mikey?” Someone called, their foot steps approaching the tour bus door rapidly. _

_ Fixing his glasses and shoving his boyfriend-not-boyfriend off of him, replied with a slightly panicked, “Yeah?” _

_ His brother opened the door and leaned against the frame. “We go on in about 30. Wanna come out and practice or are you…” his eyes wandered to Pete and smirked. “Busy?” _

_ “Nope, nope, not busy. Not busy at all. I’ll be out in a sec.” _

_ The eldest Way rocked forward a bit before casting one more look at the other band member and then closing the door once more. _

_ Mikey looked to Pete who was biting his lip to hold in a hysterical fit of giggles. _

_ “I’m going to completely ignore that you’re being a complete child and ask if you’re watching me tonight.” _

_ “Of course. You should just expect it by now.” _

_ “Well, you might get bored of me. I feel the need to ask.” _

_ “I won’t get bored.” _

_ “Mhm, sure.” Mikey said with sarcasm. _

_ “I won’t.” _

_ “I have to go.” _

_ “I know, I know. Good luck and I’ll see you before you go on.” _

_ So, My Chemical Romance warmed up a bit. Gerard did a few vocal exercises, Frank strummed a few notes, Bob smashed around on the drums. Yet here Mikey was, absently playing a few of his parts while his mind thought of Pete. _

_ “Hey!” Someone whispered yelled. _

_ Speaking of Pete, there he was. _

_ Mikey walked to the side of the stage and leaned down. “Hey yourself.” _

_ “It’s gonna get cold tonight, so wear this.” Pete handed him an extra jacket. Mikey took it reluctantly. _

_ “This yours?” _

_ The other man nodded.  _

_ “Smells like you.” _

_ “It should. Hey!” Pete gripped Mikey’s neck and pulled him forward so their foreheads were touching. “Good luck tonight, you’re gonna do great.” And with that, he pressed a chaste kiss to the other man's lips and jogged away. _

_ Mikey assumed he played well because the second he got off stage, a pair of hands wrapped around his waist and went down the front of his pants. _

_ “Pete.” He said sternly. _

_ “Hmm?” He said almost innocently, hooking his chin over his shoulder. _

_ “There are people here.” _

_ “I see them.” _

_ “Pete.” He said again. _

_ “How ‘bout we get a hotel room…?” _

_ “I- I-” _

_ “What? Gotta go ask your big brother?” Pete mocked. _

_ “No, it’s just-” _

_ “ Please.” _

_ Mikey craned his neck back to look at him. One look into those big, brown eyes and he was a gonner. How could he say no that? _

_ He chewed his lip and sighed. “Fine, fine. Just let me… tell the guys. You tell… Patrick, and Joe, and Andy, okay?” _

_ Pete smiled triumphantly and kissed his wanna be lover on the cheek before jogging off in the opposite direction to inform the other members of Fall Out Boy of his plans for the night. Mikey stood in the same place for a second, contemplating if he’d made the right call in agreeing, contemplating just what may happen tonight.  _

_ What could possibly go wrong? Okay, a lot could go wrong. But Mikey, for the sake of his crush, put those thoughts out of his mind and jogged to his bandmates to do the same as Pete. _

_ Gerard smirked at his baby brother. “Alright,  Mikes .” He emphasized the ‘Mikes’ as this was the nickname his Pete had given him. “Just be safe and use protection.” _

_ “GerARD.” _

_ His brother burst out into a fit of laughter, doubling over and clenching his stomach. Mikey glared at him and shrugged a bag he kept in the bus over his shoulder, then left to meet Pete at the FOB tour bus. _

_ Pete managed to meet him half-way. _

_ “Hi!” He said with a radiant smile. “Fancy seeing you here.” _

_ “So fancy.” Mikey smirked. _

_ “You ready?” _

_ “Mhmm.” _

_ “Alright.” He held his arm out for Mikey to link and although he pretended to dislike the gesture, he did it and felt a surge of warmth shoot through his arm and encase his entire body. _ _  
_

_ “Ah- room for two please.” Pete said, his fingers lazily linked with his almost lover and leaning on the counter. _

_ “Of course, sir.” _

_ The two men rode the elevator up to their room in silence, getting off when it stopped. When Mikey stepped out onto the grotesquely patterned carpet, he felt a jolt of anxiety settle in the pit of his stomach. The events of tonight were still unknown and I mean, what if Pete wanted to murder him because what if he was intimidated by My Chem and was scared they’d get more popular and everyone would start hating his band? _

_ Pete wasn’t like that and Mikey knew it. But anxiety was so goddamn weird- putting the most outlandish thoughts in your brain. _

_ The glasses-clad twenty-four year old must have spaced out because the next thing he heard was “Fuck, they gave us twin bed.” _

_ Mikey smiled slightly and knocked his hip with Pete’s. “It’s alright,” he began. “We’ll just have to sleep super close together then.  Such  a shame, hmm?” _

_ “Oh yeah,” Pete put his arms around Mikey and slipped his hands into his back pockets, gripping his ass tightly. “I just  hate  having you near me.” _

_ “That so?” _

_ “It is.” _

_ “Well,” Mikey pressed his body against Pete’s, mouthing at his jaw and then pulling back slightly to look the shorter man in the eye. “Then I’ll just guess we’ll have to become…” he trailed off and he trailed a finger down the middle of his chest. “Acquainted with each other.” _

_ Pete shivered. “Wow, Mikes, never seen you act like this before.” _

_ Mikey shrugged. He was never the dominant type. He was actually sub as fuck. But the moment that door closed, all that anxiety, all those worries, all those fear induced thoughts, just dripped away and went down the drain. _

_ “In all honesty, you probably never will again. So enjoy it while it lasts.” _

_ Pete laughed and gripped onto his ass harder. “I will.” _

_ The other man could barely finish his words before Mikey’s lips were locked with his. His tongue caressed the seam of his bottom lip and begged for entrance which Pete granted after a moment of ignorant hesitation.   _

_ When the tip of Mikey’s tongue brushed against the roof of the other man’s mouth, he pressed into him further, walking them backwards to the bed. Pete’s knees buckled when they hit the edge of the mattress and he fell to his back, Mikey landing on top of him.  _ _ Mikey pulled Pete’s shirt off of him, tossing it to the floor—forgotten. His fingers traced over collar bones, down over his nipples, and then over and in between every rib. There was not an inch of his bare chest that went untouched.  _

_ When his thumbs dipped into the waistband of Pete’s jeans, he immediately went back up to his nipples. Running his thumbs over the stubs until they became hard. When they did, Mikey leaned down and took one into his mouth, letting his teeth graze it and then flicking his tongue over it. He pulled off with a gentle suck and then treated the other one with the same affection. _

_ “Mikey.” Pete groaned, rutting his hips up into Mikey to try and get the friction his jeans wouldn’t allow. _

_ His lovers hand pressed his hips into the mattress and licked his way up the tanned skin. _

_ “Baby,” he laughed a little to himself. “Be patient.” _

_ The older man groaned and pouted. “ Please .” He begged. _

_ Taking a just a little bit of pity on the man under him, but also being the asshole he was, he went down Pete’s body slowly, sucking a trail of hickies down the middle of his chest, only straying from his path to give those prominent hips bones long, wet kisses. _

_ One last hickie was placed right above the waistband of Pete’s pants and then they were ripped open a bit too dramatically. His pants, like the shirt, was tossed to the side.  _

_ Through the thin fabric of boxers, Mikey palmed him roughly, placing his mouth just above the bulge and breathing hard so his breath was going through the cotton material. The heat caused Pete to moan quietly. _

_ “Want me?” Mikey asked. _

_ The response he got was an eager nod. _

_ A smirk painted his lips and he inched his boxers down, licking his thigh on the way down and then back up, biting just where his cock hung.  _

_ “You fucking tease.” _

_ “Mmm…” a lick to a v-muscle. “I know.” _ _  
_

_ Mikey couldn’t ever remember being so close to someone before. Both physically and emotionally. _

_ Pete’s arm was slung over his waist and Mikey had their fingers laced together, their legs were tangled, and Pete’s lips were brushing against his earlobe with exhale of breath. _

_ “Ya know,” He began quietly. _

_ “Hmm?” _

_ “I promise I’ll never leave you. I pro-” _

_ “Pete.” _

_ “Shut up, Mikes, lemme finish.” _

_ Mikey remained silent so Pete continued. “I promise I’ll never hurt you. I promise you’ll never be alone when I’m around. I promise whenever you’re lonely I’ll press my lips to yours. I promise you’ll always be beautiful to me and I promise- I- I promise….” He trailed off. _

_ Mikey squeezed his hand gently and then kissed his fingertips. “You promise what?” _

_ “I promise that… I love you.” _

****  
  


~

****  
  
The sound of the silence was deafening but it ripped him from that memory. His heart ached and he tasted blood in his mouth, maybe from biting down hard on his lip to keep his sobs inside. 

He prayed that that song was the only twisted memory that was weaved into lyrics. The next song was entitled  _ “Irresistible”  _ and although there were certain parts of the song _(_ _ “I breathe you in, but honey I don’t know what you’re doing to me” “...but the truth catches up with us eventually…” “I still love the way you hurt me, baby. It’s irresistible.” _ _)_ that could have been related to their summer, there was nothing that bent his finger back.

Until  _ “Favourite Record”  _ came on. There are no specific words that ripped Mikey through the portal of time and threw him back into 2005, because it was the whole song. The whole fucking song was littered with the event of June 24th.

****  
  


~

**  
** _ It was the first day the two bands had had off since the beginning of Warped. The boys of MCR and FOB were exhausted and a day of nothing was just what the doctor ordered. But for two boys in the honeymoon phase, sitting down and doing nothing was one of the most ridiculous idea they’d ever heard. _

_ “Hey,” Pete whispered into Mikey’s ear. _

_ “Yes?” _

_ “Go on an adventure with me.” _

_ “Right now?” _

_ “Yes.” _

_ “But it’s our day off.” _

_ “We’ll have fun. And besides, it’s almost 5:00 p.m, the  day  is basically over.” _

_ Mikey gave a fed up look to his newly labeled boyfriend which made Pete pout. _

_ “I… made you something. Please, Mikes.” _

_ “Ugh. Fine. Let me grab a jacket.” _

_ “Psh,” Pete intertwined their fingers. “I gotcha covered.” _

_ The younger man blushed and walked outside with Pete, following him to his car. The FOB member opened the passenger seat door for him and closed it when he settled into the seat. _

_ Pete turned to the side to face Mikey, he took his hands and clasped them between his.  _

_ “Mikey Way,” _

_ “Oh god, are you proposing? I’m not ready for that.” Mikey giggled. _

_ “Hush, and no. But, Mikey Way, you have been the centerpoint of this last month and I’m so excited to see what the rest of time has planned for us. But, spending time with you has made me realise something. I realised that you are the song stuck in my head, every song I’ve ever loved. And because of that I’ll play them all again and again. That’s why I made this CD for you. I kinda suck with words, so I was hoping this would clarify how I feel.” _

_ Mikey smiled and surged forward, pressing his lips to Pete’s with all emotion he had for the man.  “Mmm.. I love you, too.”  _

_ Pete smiled and turned the key in the ignition, starting the car and letting the CD begin. They drove far and for a long time. The sky was fading from blue and was currently a shade of purple. _

_ “I wanna tell you something.” Pete blurted out and when Mikey looked over to him, the look on his face told him that he wish he’d kept his mouth shut. _

_ “Tell me.” _

_ A deep breath, and half a song later, Pete’s eyes opened and he began. “Four months ago- no. Let me start over from the beginning. I have been bipolar since I was 18 and been on anxiety medication since 16. Four months ago, I attempted suicide. Uh- it was with my anxiety medication. It was a big- it was something that I dealt with. We dealt with. Patrick and the rest of the band, along with my family. I- I’m getting better. This tour has been good, it’s really taken my mind off of all of that stuff. And- Mikey. Mikey, you’ve been so fucking good for me. I see you and I just- this feeling grabs me and I feel- Mikey. What’s your favourite record?” _

_ The question took him back a little. “I- I don’t… It’s broken.” _

_ “Well, I’ll spin for you like your favourite record used to.” _

_  
_ _ It was probably around 8:00 p.m when they stopped driving and parked on a hill.  _

_ “What are we doing here?” _

_ “The most cliche shit ever. So get out.” _

_ Mikey followed his command and got out, Pete shortly after. Before he met Mikey in front of his car, he turned the car radio up, letting some love song play in the background. Pete  _ _ grabbed his hand and pulled him into him. _

_ “You ever slow danced before?” He questioned. _

_ The brunette shook his head and looked down awkwardly. _

_ “I’m gonna teach you then. Okay,” He grabbed his wrists and made him clasp his hands together, then threw them over his neck. “Just keep those there, alright?” He nodded. “Good, good. Now, I’m gonna put my hands here-” They rested on his hips, pressing him just slightly closer than before. “Now we’re just gonna kinda sway to the song. Feel free to rest your head on my shoulder oooor… kiss me…” _

_ The Way brother blushed and hugged Pete closer, kissing his neck sweetly and then resting his head in the crook of his neck. _

_  
_ _ The album started over. Twice. On the third time, Mikey peeled himself off of Pete and said, “As much I enjoy dancing, my feet are starting to ache a little bit.” _

_ “I get ya. C’mon to the back seat.” _

_ There was a little bundle of pillows and blankets all stuffed into the backseat that somehow he didn’t notice the first time he got in. _

__  
  
__ Mikey laid curled up in Pete’s arms, falling asleep to the sound of his whispering, “I’ll spin for you like your favourite records used to…”

****  
  


~

****  
  
When  _ “Fourth of July” _ came on, the tears were already streaming down his face due to the last song. But what stung most was the fact that this song wasn’t a love-filled memory they shared, it was the summer after. One of the hardest summers either of them ever endured.

They had gone months without speaking after Warped- they “broke up” after the summer ended. With albums being written, tours going on, and fans erupting over Warped, it was difficult to come to terms with the relationship being over.

But one night, the Fourth of July, Pete called Mikey for the first time in over a year.

****  
  


~

****  
  
_ “Hello?” _

_ “Heeeey…” _

_ Mikey yanked the phone away from his ear to see the caller ID and stared in confusion at the screen when it displayed no number, but instead said ‘Private Number.’ _

_ “Uh, who is this?” _

_ “You don’t remember your summer love?” The man on the other end of the line sounded genuinely hurt. _

_ “Pete?” Mikey whispered although he was alone. _

_ “Ayyye, you do remember me, Mikes.” _

_ His breath hitched in his throat at the sound of the nickname. He hadn’t been called that in what felt like centuries. _

_ “Pete, are you drunk?” _

_ “As a sailor, and you’re still the only thing on my mind. Why can’t I get rid of you? Oh god, I told you I wouldn’t miss you- I swore- and a year later I’m drinking because I close my eyes and see you. I’m drinking because I touch myself with the thought of your hand and imagining your moans. I’m drinking bec-” _

_ A sob tore from Mikey’s throat.  _

_ “Mikes, are you crying?” _

_ “No.” He sniffled. _

_ “Honey, don’t lie to me.” _

_ “Pete…” _

_ “Ya know what we were?” _

_ “No.” _

_ “Fireworks. But we went off too soon. I love you, Mikes.” _

_ And then there was a click. He’d hung up and… and he just- Mikey didn’t even know about that boy. But what he did know was, he could get married, have a kid, pretend to move on with his fucking life, but no matter what, Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III was always going to be his best mistake and worst choice. But he was also his best friend, soul mate, lover, heartbreaker, biggest weakness, and greatest strength. His biggest ‘What If’ and that fact killed him. _

_ It killed him because he would never be held by him again, never feel those lips against his, and would never again feel the safety of Pete Wentz. _

****  
  


~

**  
** He was falling apart and didn’t know if he’d be able to put himself back together. It had been almost ten years and the only thing he’d managed to do was pretend to not care anymore. 

And then this stupid album came along and twisted his heart. He was 35, not in his fucking 20’s. He had a life for god’s sake, yet here he fucking was- shaking and crying and hold his head in his hands and the CD flipped to the last song.

_ “She’s in a long black coat tonight. Waiting for me in the downpour outside. She’s singing ‘Baby, come home’ in a melody of tears while the rhythm of the rain keeps time.” _

Mikey nodded, remembering the last thing Pete Wentz ever said to him. He lifted up his shirt to look where it should have been. The sharpie now faded but memory still there like a tattoo on his mind and heart. The words ran through his head every day, yet never expected Pete to keep that promise.  That  promise, out of all the ones he broke, he had to keep that one.

_I’ll write an album about you one day, Mikey Way. I promise_.

The last thing he ever said was promise that was never suppose to be kept. But it was. It was and it fucked Mikey up so bad. He was so torn. Should he go to him? Should he call? Should he just say nothing? Maybe he should call Gerard.

**  
** He typed in a familiar number that he hadn’t called in nearly a decade, put the phone to his ear with a shaking hand.

“Aye, this is Pete.”

“Peter fucking Wentz.” Was the only thing Mikey could manage.

“Mik- Holy shit is that you?”

“Who else would be calling you at 12:45 at night?”

“Did you hea-”

“Yes! Yes I heard it! You- what are you trying to say to me?”

“That I am in love with you, Mikes.”

“I-”

“But us. It could never- it won’t- it  can’t  happen again.”

“Why?” It felt like he was being stabbed in the chest- losing a lover all over again.

“Because, my love, I’m a father now.”

“Can’t we at least be friends?”

Pete chuckled sadly. “I already told you. We’re better off as lovers, not the other way around.”

“But I love you.”

“And I love you, too. But if we were to be around each other… I’d break down. If I had you in my presence and couldn’t…  touch  you, oh god, I would die. If you went home and I went home and it wasn’t together, it would only make your soft breaths louder in my mind. So no. Being friends is not on the table for us.”

“It has to be. Pete, please. Please…”

“Can I come over?”

The question shocked him and left him unable to respond for a moment.

“M-Mikes? You there?”

“Yes. Yes to both.”

“Text me your address.”

“On it.”

Mikey did so and then leaned back into his headboard. This was happening. This was actually happening. Pete was coming to his house and the events of the night were so uncertain, yet he could… see him so it would be so worth it.

**  
** There was a knock at the door and Mikey never moved so fast to go get it. Pete was there, physically there and he looked amazing. 

“Pete!” He cried, surging forward and connecting their lips.

Pete didn’t pulled away, instead he wrapped both arms around the small of Mikey’s back and pulled him into his chest. 

They moved in sync, every movement anticipated and every moan caught. 

Mikey pulled away and cleared his throat. “Come in.”

Pete waltzed in, shutting the door and pushing his ex into the wall, kissing his neck and sucking roughly.

“Pete… you’re gonna leave hickies! People will s-see.”

“Still shy about that, eh Mikes?”

He nodded awkwardly.

“Let them see.”

“Oh.”

That night was spent in ecstasy and a tangle of sheets after the pair finally made it to the bedroom. 

Pete spent a lot of time apologizing for the promises he broke. He spent even more time telling Mikey how much he loved him. Mikey spent a lot of time laughing and accepting his apologies. He spent even more time whispering “I love you, too.”

It was very late at night and Mikey was unable to fall asleep. 

“Want me to write to you?”

“Hmm..” Mikey pressed a kiss to Pete’s chest. “Yes.”

His thighs were covered in words, hearts, and smiley faces. Chest and stomach in the same condition.

“Pete…”

“Yes.”

“I’m getting tired, but I wanna write something on you.”

“Where?”

“Where will only you see?”

Pete thought for a moment and then pulled up the pant leg of his boxers, revealing his inner thigh. “Right here.”

Mikey took the sharpie from him and uncapped it with his teeth, thinking for a moment about what to say.

Then it dawned on him.

“May I write a letter?”

“You may do anything.”

Mikey grinned and pressed the head of the sharpie into the pale skin. In his neatest handwriting, he wrote,  “To my love: whom I think always love. Who I will always think of in not only my brightest times, but in also my darkest. Who will drift into my mind during the during the calmest hours of the night. Who I pray will always love me, because I will forever love him, even if we are not together.”

Pete read it and Mikey took note of the tears welling up in his eyes. 

“Let’s go to bed.” Pete mumbled, wrapping himself around the smaller man.

“You’ll be here when I wake up?”

There came to no response and Mikey felt tears in his own eyes.

“Don’t cry…” Pete whispered.

“I’m trying not to.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Always?”

“And forever.”

****  
  
Mikey awoke to an empty bed. The only evidence of last night was the sharpie notes all over him and his red swollen eyes. 

He sat up and sighed, hoping that wherever Pete woke up, his mind wandered to Mikey. Because his first thought in the morning would be Pete for the rest of his life. **  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And here is the alternate ending. Literally everything is the same as the first part except what it typed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, alternate ending.

_I’ll write an album about you one day, Mikey Way. I promise._

The last thing he ever said was promise that was never suppose to be kept. But it was. It was and it fucked Mikey up so bad. He was so torn. Should he go to him? Should he call? Should he just say nothing? Maybe he should call Gerard.

He did none of those things. He did something even more stupid.

Before the song was even over, Mikey was scrambling over to his closet to find what he was looking for.

Deep in the back of his closet was a wadded up pile of clothing that he’d shoved to there whenever he bought a new house. The clump consisted of the first thing Mikey ever wore when he and Pete were together, one of Pete’s jackets that he’d forgotten to take back, and a long black peacoat that hadn’t been on his body in ages.

Throwing on the first outfit on, along with the long black peacoat, he rushed outside and flipped his car on, driving underneath the clouded sky to an address he pretended he didn’t know.

Before he’d arrived to the Wentz residence, the sky let its fury out in the form of rain. Letting large droplets fall and splatter on Mikey’s windshield. This situation was getting more cliche by the second.

But when he finally pulled up into the driveway, the thought of ‘Oh fuck, this may not be a good idea’ entered his mind. He was already there though and the other part of him that was not quite over his summer love was begging him to go through with his actions.

With his anxiety in full effect and a knot in his stomach, Mikey opened the car door.It was pouring rain and before the door was even locked, the 34 year old was already soaked through to his skin. With shaky steps, he approached the front door, wanting to turn back four times and wanted to cry seven. But there he stood, sopping wet with a hand raised to knock on the door.

Pete opened the door, his breath hitching when his eyes focused on the man in front of him.

“Mikey?” He gasped.

Mikey’s lip was quivering so he had his top row of teeth sunken into it. He parted the contact and sucked in a breath, tears leaking down his face. “Baby, come home.”

Pete exhaled harshly and broke into a series of sobs, throwing his arms arms around his neck and yanking the younger man into him.

The two of them stood there for a second, maybe a minute, maybe five, or an hour. It didn’t matter because they were together and pressed together for the first time in nearly a decade. Then there was a sound behind Pete.

“Daddy?” A small voice squeaked.

Pete pulled away, his hand sliding down Mikey’s back and turning toward the sound. “Hey, Bronx.” He smiled. “Did I wake you?”

“Who’s this?” The little boy asked, completely ignoring the question.

“This is… This is Mikey. Do you remember me telling you about him?”

The child nodded, eyes lighting up, and ran over to the Way brother, staring up at him and holding out his hand.

“Hi! I’m Bronx, my daddy tells us stories about you a lot.”

Mikey smiled and squatted down so he was level with the young boy. “Does he?”

Bronx nodded. “Oh yeah! Hey, Daddy, can I go get Saint so he can meet Mikey, too?”

Pete smiled. “Of course. Go get your brother.”

The seven year old ran off, leaving the two men alone.

“You told your kids about me?” Mikey asked breathlessly.

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re- I- I wanted them to know about you- about us. How much I-”

“Saint,” the children’s hands were linked. “This is Mikey.”

The youngest boy, though unable to form proper words or sentences, gurgled happily at him.

Mikey glanced to Pete, then to his son, the back to Pete. “Can I…”

“Hold him? Of course.”

He held out his arms and Saint came waddling over, launching himself into Mikey’s arms. Once they were wound around his neck, Mikey pushed of the ground, holding the small child to him. Saint mumbled something that sounded dangerously close to “Daddy.”

“You must be cold, standing out there in the downpour out… side… You listened to it?”

“Every word.”

“Boys, go back in your rooms. I’ll be in there in a sec, alright?”

“Is Mikey gonna be here in the morning?”

Mikey glanced to Pete who wasn’t looking at him. Pete responded with, “We’ll talk about it later. But right now, you two. Bed. Now.”

“Goodnight, Mikey.”

The bassist set the child in his arms to the ground. “Goodnight.”

Pete grabbed hold of Mikey’s wrist and lead him to his bedroom, turning on the bathroom light on.

“You’re probably really cold… so here. Take a shower and then we’ll uh… We’ll talk.”

Mikey nodded and closed the door, turning the shower on and waiting for the water to warm up. When it was a comfortable temperature, he stripped of his coat, jeans, shirt, and stepped in, letting the warmth rejuvenate his his muscles and return feeling to his fingertips.

“I’m setting some clothes on the counter for you.”

“Thanks!”

Mikey did his best to shut his brain off and just _shower_ but how could he? He’d shown up at his ex-boyfriend’s house, been greeted with open arms- literally, ex-boyfriend’s children shared the fact that their dad aka ex-boyfriend, has told them all about him. Things were not going as planned, but they were going great.

He shut the shower off and ripped the curtain back, eyes landing on a stack of clothing. Upon inspection, Mikey realised that they were his clothes, along with one of Pete’s oversized jumpers.

He slipped on his clothes that still smelt like summer, and Pete’s sweatshirt that gave off the aroma of his cologne. Mikey hugged himself tightly, inhaling the scent he missed so much.

With a deep breath, he opened the door and strode out into the bedroom. Pete was already sitting on the bed with his legs crossed and obviously waiting for him to emerge.

“You put the boys to bed?”

Pete nodded. “So,” He be began, waiting for Mikey to sit on the bed before continuing. “You heard it?”

The younger man nodded. “Pete, I- I thought that I was… I thought you forgot about it- about us. I thought you-” Pete edged closer, placing one hand behind Mikey’s neck, he took a deep breath. “I thought I-” One hand on his waist. “Pete…” Mikey couldn’t stop himself from leaning forward. Their foreheads were touching and breath tangling. “I thought we…” And then their lips touched.

It had been a decade between the last time they locked lips and now, but the moment they connected Mikey pulled himself into Pete’s lap like he’d done so many times before. They moved together the same way as when they were in their 20’s and lacked experience, rutting against each other and moaning like they’d never been touched before.

Much like the sticky summer nights of 2005, they spent their time between the sheets, pressing kisses to the others most sensitive skin. They got off on making the other moan and writhe.

It was something they had missed. Not just because of the high it gave them, not because they were in need of some release. But because they simply needed each other.

 **  
**“Round two?” Suggested Pete.

“Ahaa… No. I’m not.. 25 anymore.” Mikey laughed.

“I know, I know.” He pressed his lips to Mikey’s collar bones and leaned over to his nightstand, pulling a sharpie into his hand and hovering over his lover.

“What?”

“Want a new tattoo?”

“Sure…”

Mikey’s thighs, calves, wrist, and most of his chest were covered in broken song lyrics, hearts, and smiley faces. The final touch was on his stomach. In Pete’s nicest handwriting, he wrote, _‘I promised you I’d write an album for you, Mikey Way, and I did.’_

He ran his fingers over the sharpie and smiled.

Pete crawled back up, wrapping his arms around the slightly smaller man and pulling him close. His lips brushed against his earlobe, which had happened so many other times before. An intake of breath echoed in Mikey’s ear and then, “Are you going to be here in the morning?”

“Where else would I be?”

“Home?”

Mikey laughed quietly. “Home is where the heart is, right?”

“No, it’s wherever we’re together.” **  
**


End file.
